Gran Torino (2008)

Promising it would be his final acting role, Clint Eastwood goes out with a bang as a racist retiree who decides to clean up the neighborhood. A powerful and gripping ‘issues’ film, Gran Torino does not hold the key to solving the racial divide in America nor does it claim to. What it does deliver is a gritty, realistic look at gang-ridden suburbs and fantastic performances from all the major players.

Walt Kowalski is a hard man. His work on the Ford assembly line has left him with a gorgeous car, a 1972 Gran Torino, which he treasures. His upbringing and service during the Korean War has left him full of racist notions that he almost giddily dispenses in foul-mouthed tirades. The recent death of his wife has left him on his own. His children don’t care much for him, which is fine; he thinks they’re a bunch of selfish brats anyway. On top of it all, the neighborhood has gone to pot. Most of the homes once owned by ‘respectable’ white auto workers are now populated by low-income residents of Hmong descent.

After Walt catches the neighbor boy attempting to steal his beloved car, things change. To make up for his would-be crime, Thao Vang Lor works odd jobs for Walt, who puts him to good use fixing things and doing yard work around the neighborhood. When the Hmong gang that pressured Thao to steal Walt’s car start making their presence felt, Walt decides to push back in an attempt to protect Thao and his sister. The gang underestimates the ornery old man and matters escalate all the way to an explosive climax.

Let’s get the negatives out of the way first. Some aspects of the film are predictable. An old racist overcoming bigotry to care for his minority neighbors? Yeah, we’ve seen that before. Youth foolishly taking on a wily old soldier? Sure, it’s been done already in one form or another. The resolution? Most of you will see what’s coming a long ways off but there are enough surprises for you that keep the ending fresh. So there are a few weaknesses inherent to the story. Most of what Hollywood produces is at least partially derivative anymore (the fact that genres exist should tell you this).

It all comes down to the execution and, unless you’re an extreme cynic, Gran Torino will knock your socks off. If this truly is Clint Eastwood’s final time in front of the camera, it is a bittersweet swan song. Clint channels some of his most iconic curmudgeons to bring Walt Kowalski to life and never lags for a second. At 78 years old (during filming), Clint still has all the grit and spit necessary to dazzle you. He may have gone soft over the last decade but he never lost the acting chops that have made him a legend. This is full bore, hyper-masculine Clint freakin’ Eastwood. Anybody got a problem with that? Didn’t think so.

As hard and fierce as Kowalski is, it’s clear that Clint had a lot of fun with this role. On top of this, he has a reputation for being an actor’s director. He knows the craft and his passion certainly helped the supporting cast of unknowns step up to the plate and deliver. The younger leads don’t look like they are in over their heads next to Clint. In fact, they exude the acting confidence to take him head on. That is a hallmark to Clint’s ability to connect with and get the most out of his actors.

This is not a film for the faint of heart or for the politically correct. There is a fair amount of intensity and violence in Gran Torino. If you’re not prepared to see what havoc gangs can unleash, don’t watch this film. It might be wise to avoid this film if you are trying to shelter yourself from racial epithets- Eastwood’s Kowalski pretty much uses them all. You might even learn a few new ones to boot. As repugnant as Kowalski’s racism is, the absurd amount of derogatory remarks he throws out is actually amusing in an Archie Bunker kind of way. It’s been said that we laugh at what we don’t understand. Perhaps that’s why I found Kowalski hilarious- there’s absolutely no understanding the depths of his bigotry.

Gran Torino was critically praised yet passed over by the major award circuits. Part of me understands this because the film is loaded with clichés and predictability. But the way Clint takes all these perceived negatives and cranks out a powerful and emotional film worth watching is awe-inspiring. Perhaps no one wanted to honor his portrayal of the world’s biggest racist but the fact remains- Clint Eastwood rides off into the sunset having delivered one of the best performances in his career.

I think that everyone should see this film. Even if it makes you squeamish with its violence or shatters the shield of political correctness society tries to place over our ears, you will be better off having seen Gran Torino. Clint clearly has plenty of gas in the tank when it comes to acting, so it’s sad that this is his last acting role. Then again, how many actors get to go out on top quite like this?

RATING: 3.75 out of 5

Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966)

Previously I listed the 2002 stinker The Master of Disguise as the worst movie I have ever seen. Believe me when I tell you that, scary as it may seem, it does actually get worse. I’m not even going to tease you about this one- Manos: The Hands of Fate is quite possibly the worst film ever made and hands down the worst I have seen so far. I warned that anyone reading my review for The Master of Disguise would get punched by me if I discovered that they still watched that dreck. If I discover that you have read the following review for Manos, I will simply stare at you in pity.

A couple and their young daughter are traveling through the country when they take a wrong turn. Instead of their intended destination, they stumble upon a run-down house with unusual inhabitants. The caretaker is a creepy man named Torgo. He stammers around with large knees and mutters incomprehensible nonsense most of the time. Another man, known only as “The Master” hides in the shadows plotting to take the woman as his own. Torgo falls in love with the woman and promises to protect her for his own from The Master.

After discovering The Master in his sleeping quarters with a slew of zombie-esque female servants, the couple tries to leave. This plan goes awry as The Master and his wives are determined to take what is due to them. In the end, Torgo is mutilated when he tries to protect the woman from The Master. Her husband fairs no better and ends up The Master’s new servant as his wife and child become part of his den of zombie wives.

Not only is it derivative, Manos: The Hands of Fate is also painful to watch. Travelers stopping at the wrong place is not a new plot and certainly wasn’t back in 1966. A creepy sorcerer-like man with a crew of zombie wives probably makes it stand out after the clichéd lead-in but Manos’ lead-in is horrible. For at least two or three straight minutes (possibly even longer) you are forced to watch the couple drive around, gazing out of their car windows, driving through beautiful country sides and off into the distance. Apparently these opening minutes were supposed to include the film’s credits. Why the credits were scrapped but not the plodding opening minutes is a mystery larger than that of who is the master and why does he have zombie wives? Strike one.

The innocent family is fine. Sure, the husband is a nitwit who doesn’t act like a true man or father, but he plays convincing enough prey. Torgo, as I found out, was supposed to be some kind of satyr creature but the actor wore the leg devices backwards (explaining the huge knees) and never wore the footwear designed to make him look hoofed. On top of this, the actor stammers around and delivers his lines as if he were high. (Further research on the making of the film only seems to confirm this) The result is that the character is full-on creepy but totally nonsensical, making it seem even more ridiculous that the family would impose upon him to stay the night. Strike two.

Then there is The Master, a Frank Zappa lookalike who wears a flamboyant red costume with a giant hand on it. He never says too much but has mastered the art of the ominous stare. His powers are- well, we never really see what his powers are, how he uses them or to what purposes they serve aside from collecting a horde of zombie-esque wives from ill-fated passersby. We see so little of him, in fact, that we can only rely on his equally impressive collection of ominous stares that he is one bad dude. Strike three.

The populo minutiae are equally disappointing. First there is a young couple who are constantly making out along various roadsides for no seeming point whatsoever. (The truth is that the actress in this scene was supposed to play a larger role but broke her leg- the director just found a way to keep her in the film) Then there are the police who hear gunshots and strange noises off in the distance but turn back once they reach the edge of darkness. (The reason behind this is that the film was shot at night and the actors literally couldn’t see if the ground in front of them was safe) Strikes four and five.

Hold on- did I really just get to strike five already? I haven’t even begun to rip apart the atrocious production values! (They stink, by the way) Granted, Manos: The Hands of Fate is an independently produced film. It was written, directed and produced by Harold P. Warren, a Texas manure salesman. He also stars in the film as the head of the family falling victim to The Master. Thankfully, Warren realized he was better at selling crap than making movies and never made a follow-up.

You may think it harsh of me to lambast a low-budget, independent film. There are tons of burgeoning filmmakers who don’t have access to Hollywood’s bankrolls. The difference is that most of these burgeoning filmmakers actually have an ounce of talent. Manos is merely a collection of horror clichés wrapped with a ribbon of wackiness. There is never a sense that the filmmaker knew what he was doing. To say that the pace lags suggests that it ever even gets out of first gear. When it’s not insufferably boring and slow, Manos confuses the bejeebers out of you.

All of this and I even watched the Mystery Science Theater 3000 lampooning of it! The MST3K guys say it best during their treatment- minutes into the film, one of the characters shouts out “Do something!” at the screen. This comment could be appropriately inserted to a majority of the film’s 74-minute run time. This is sad. If you don’t watch the MST3K version, Godspeed you brave, brave soul. Then again, be warned- if you don’t turn it off during the opening non-credits sequence out of sheer boredom, you may end up staring lazily off into space like one of The Master’s zombie wives.

Manos: The Hands of Fate is 74 minutes of strikes. I knew this was said to be one of the worst films ever made when I watched it but I thought that meant a Plan 9 From Outer Space kind of bad. I was sorely mistaken. This is one movie that even I will never ever watch again if I have a choice. Consider yourself warned!

RATING: 0.25 out of 5